To Shatter, To Heal
by WhisperToMeSoftly
Summary: Gaius is a young physician, fresh out of the university, his reputation growing by the day. But when he meets a young woman who needs his help, he finds something that may be his destiny. Or is his destiny yet to come? -rated t for potential dark themes.


"_**Perhaps it will do you more good than it did me…"**_

_**-Gaius, ep. 1.1, upon handing Merlin a spellbook.**_

_"You have a talent, Gaius," the man murmured, as he clasped the magician's hand tightly in his. As he spoke, their gazes locked, and Gaius was struck for what must have been the fiftieth time by the startling blue shade of his eyes. "I look forward to seeing the sorcerer you will become." _

_Magicians surrounded them, all in robes the color of a starless night sky, shaking hands with professors and other students with an excited finality. There was the feeling of something ending in the air, laced with that unique, colorful, exhilarating thrill of new opportunity. Liberation. Independence._

_Gaius looked back at the castle behind him, tall and cold against the light blue sky. "You won't remain teaching at Brooklight, professor?" he asked, turning back to him. The man's eyes sparkled._

_"So you've heard. I'm moving on, to teach at Hengsley."_

_Gaius smiled. "Your dream, as I understand it. Will you teach the same subject?"_

_He nodded proudly, releasing Gaius' hand and straightening. "I'll be teaching Physical Magics there, as well. Hopefully I can use their laboratories for research; I've heard they're a right sight better than the ones here."_

_"I look forward to seeing the legend you will become," Gaius said with a smirk, repeating the man's own words. The man laughed heartily._

_"You shall become a legend long before I, Gaius," he said with conviction. "You are young, you are strong, and you have the heart of both a royal champion and a mother hen." Gaius scoffed good-naturedly, but the man continued in a serious tone: "You are meant for great things, even if no one will know your name. Find your purpose, the thing you are meant to do—and devote your life, your heart, and your soul to it until it has everything you can give."_

_"I can only hope that I have the luck to find it," Gaius said with a bright smile. The man did not return it, only gave him a knowing, proud expression. _

_"Luck has nothing to do with it."_

The air was cold with winter's chill, dry and clear as a crystal. Silence had fallen with the gray clouds over the city. People moved slowly, their heads ducked against the wind, only speaking quietly as if afraid to break the icy quiet. Stone buildings stood shadowy and foreboding along gray stone streets—only one looked even the least bit inviting.

It stood alone, separate from its neighbors, and its stone had more of a red tint to its bricks. Fires burned in all its rooms, giving it an aura of warmth and benevolence. It alone was surrounded by people, moving and speaking. It alone was alive in a city smothered by the death of the season. Considering the purpose of the place, it was a horribly irony.

A young man walked down the street towards it, books under one arm, a basket full of parchments on the other. Even if he looked just as pale and wind-bitten as the rest of the city folk, there was a certain gentleness to his expression that made him instantly approachable. His brown hair was longer, but not with so much style as negligence. He was constantly brushing it out of his dark, intense eyes even as he walked. The cloak he wore looked too thin for the weather, but he didn't seem to mind. Spectacles on a chain bounced as he strode down the cobblestones; he looked for all the world like there wasn't anything that could bother him.

He made his way through the crowd of people in front of the red building, glancing up only once to see the carved stone sign above the entrance: "Nostramus Hospital".

He felt the heat as he entered, surrounding him and melting into his skin until he could feel it at his very core. He sighed with pleasure, moving towards a desk where a young, studious-looking young woman was quickly scribbling things into a volume.

She started spectacularly when he cleared his throat, looking up meekly. Then her face brightened. "Oh, Gaius!" she said with cheer in her voice. "How nice to see you! Quite late for your normal hours, isn't it?"

"My research sucked me in and wouldn't let me go," he said conversationally, shifting his basket to his other hand to sign his name on a piece of paper that read "PHYSICIAN STAFF" at the top.

"You're at that university far too much," the woman chided playfully, resuming her scribbling with a slightly happier air. "Do you sleep there as well?"

"Sometimes," Gaius shot back with a smirk. "Jakkus and Pemben make good bed partners."

He was naming ancient magical scholars, and it made the woman burst out in a fit of giggles. "Gaius, you are a tease!"

"Thank you, love, I do appreciate you saying so," he said brightly as he made his way past, into the hospital.

His office was small and mostly bare—he hardly spent any time in it, so he had never found the purpose in keeping anything of use in it. He took off his winter cloak, taking his light blue cape from the back of the chair and tying it around his neck to mark himself as a physician of the hospital. His books went on the small desk, his basket of parchment was placed beneath it with care. Straightening his maroon tunic and brushing off his brown pants, he took up his large case of medicinal products and papers, and strode down the hallway to where his patients were waiting.

The first patient was one of his regulars, whom he'd been treating ever since he had arrived in the city of Lath. He was a pleasant merchant by the name of Kellnor, who had a bad eye that was always in need of treatment.

"Busy day, Gaius?" he asked mildly as Gaius looked at his eye closely with candlelight.

"Somewhat," the young physician replied absently. "Spent most of it in the lab."

"Workin' on somethin'?"

"Somethin'."

"Aw, c'mon," the merchant whined as Gaius turned away to sort through his medecines. "Yer not goin' t'tell me?"

He turned back with a smile, vials and an empty bottle in his hand. "It wouldn't interest you. Something physical. I'm trying to create a procedure that might cure a disease."

"Didntja do that last week?"

Gaius popped a cork into the top of the bottle, a purple liquid now swirling inside it, and handed it to the merchant with a grin. "I'll do it to the day I die, Kel. And if you overdose on this stuff again, I _won't_ be the one to pry you off of the cobblestones this time."

Kellnor stood, taking the bottle, and gestured to Gaius with it. "I'm sure me wife'll be wantin' that job, if only so she can beat me bloody."

"And you know you'd be deservin' of it, ye bastard," he said good-naturedly, mimicking the merchant's tone. "Now do as I say, I'm your bloody physician."

"Yes, doc," Kellnor said as he left, winking.

"Send in the next one!" Gaius called as he marked notes on his book, cleaning up the vials with his other hand.

The next was also a regular, an old woman with a crippled foot. She was hunched over, cane in one hand, but dressed quite fashionably for a lady whose face was so cracked and wrinkled. "Gaius, I've been waiting for over an hour," she croaked irritably as she moved painfully, slowly to take a seat.

"And I do apologize, Lady Dawry, I do," Gaius said smoothly, trying to sound as sincere as possible. "You know how the university gets with their long hours. I tried to get away as soon as I could."

"You still saw that petty thief Kellnar before me," she muttered vindictively, lifting her skirts and taking off her shoe to show her twisted foot.

"Kellnor," Gaius said calmly as he bent over to study it. "And he was in the room first. Has this been hurting you at all?"

"Only the ankle, like before," she replied shortly. "But we made an appointment, Gaius! I expected to be seen to on time!"

"I am truly sorry, Lady, I am," he said quickly, already distracted by the flower petals he was adding to a bottle, stirring with a pure silver rod. Focusing intently, he leaned closer to it and breathed: "_Isarna m'koerlinae_." Instantly a deep orange began to swirl within the previously-white cream, until it was the consistency of honey. He corked it, handing it off to the woman, and found that she had been speaking to him the entire time.

"—and a young man like you shouldn't be unmarried, I've been telling my grandson that for years, and he only ever brings home the _prostitutes_—"

"I'm quite happy alone for now, Lady Dawry," Gaius said hastily, standing to help her to the door. But obviously, she wasn't finished:

"—there's that nice young lady who sells the flowers on Elmund Street, she'd be good for you. Or I have a friend in Gloust who's been looking for a husband ever since hers died in that terrible incident with the cat—"

"Like last time, smear it on your ankle every night before bed, all right? All right. Feel better, Lady Dawry," Gaius said loudly and quickly, virtually shoving the elderly woman out the door even as she continued to talk at him. "NEXT!"

The evening went very much the same. One patient after another, Gaius would look at them, diagnose them, and prescribe them—usually with something he made at that moment. Other times, he requested them to come to his house in the morning when he would have a more complex solution ready. Many physicians often charged for the more complex ones, because they took more time and more effort, and often required magic of varying strengths. But Gaius always thought the ones who required the more complex medicines were the ones who needed it the most, and so he had never charged a single cent for his services or products when they were being used for medicinal purposes.

"So I won't have to pay you nothin'?" the girl repeated again.

"No, you won't," Gaius repeated. "It's free of charge."

She coughed hoarsely, squinting as she said, "Why? What's in it fer you?"

He stood, helping her off the couch, and guiding her gently to the door. "Seeing you able to breathe again. Don't lose my address, all right? And tell my landlady that I sent you."

"Whatever ye say," the girl muttered, glancing up at him suspiciously with hollow eyes through a mess of tangled hair. "…thanks."

"You're welcome," he said kindly. "Next!"

A young woman stood up, and made her way towards him. She was dressed plainly, a thick woolen shawl around her shoulders. Her dark hair was slightly curly, most of it held in a bun at the back of her head, the rest falling messily about her face and shoulders. She looked up at him as she got close, and he noticed her eyes were a deep, bright green.

"Are you Gaius?" she asked quietly.

It took him a moment to respond, so lost was he in those eyes. He quickly shook off the feeling, and replied hastily, "Yes, yes, that's me."

She nodded, and there was a sort of despair about her that he hadn't noticed before. "I've been told that you were the best in the hospital."

"That would be nice if it were true," he said modestly, welcoming her through the doorway and gesturing. "Please, have a seat."

"Thank you." She made her way silently to the couch, her shawl wrapped tight about her even as she sat down gingerly. She remained hunched over, almost curled into herself; she almost reminded Gaius of a beaten puppy.

He felt the mother hen in him cluck with sympathy, and he gently sat down in his own chair. "What can I do for you, miss?"

She didn't look at him, only turned her gaze to the floor. "My wrist has been hurting me. Usually I don't come into the city for that sort of thing, but it's gotten quite nasty, and it's hard for me to work."

She spoke quietly, meekly, as if she were afraid he might hit her. He slowly held out a hand as he would if he were trying to coax a wounded animal. "May I see it?" he asked. She glanced at him once, quickly, then gradually pulled her hand out from underneath the shawl.

The sight was hideous. Across the back of her wrist there was a long slash, covered by a bulky scab. The entire thing was swollen to the size of a small fruit, and the sick color of a rotten plum. Yellow pus had begun to eke out from underneath the scab and harden along its edges.

Gaius let out a breath. "How long has it been like this?" he asked, taking her hand as gently as he could and turning it to get a better look.

"The yellow stuff only started coming two days ago," she said softly. "But it was that big as soon as it happened, almost."

"And how did it happen?" he asked, reaching for a piece of cloth to wipe away the edges of the scab.

She remained silent.

A moment passed, and Gaius finally looked up at her expectantly. She looked up at him, her eyes almost defiant. But also a little fearful.

He rested the cloth on his leg. "What is your name?" he asked kindly, holding her hand.

"Marissa," she breathed, as if she were afraid someone would hear.

"Marissa," he repeated slowly, "how did this happen?"

She stared at him for several moments, her green eyes locked with his—then she looked at the floor again, and offered him her hand. "Please. Just make it better."

Gaius clenched his teeth, recognizing a broken woman when he saw one. But all the same, he continued to treat the wound, squeezing the pus from it and wiping it away, and peeling away the ugly scab and applying pressure so that a new, cleaner one would form. He gave her a bottle of a potion that would clear her body of any remaining poison from whatever had cut her, and stood to show her the door.

As she passed him to leave, he caught her by the arm—instantly she flinched away, her face taut with fear. But the expression was quickly hidden as she caught the sympathy in his face.

"Come to me whenever you need to, miss," he said earnestly, offering a piece of parchment. "Please. Don't be afraid."

He released her arm, leaving her to stare at him. He almost felt like she was studying him, judging him, trying to decide whether or not she should believe him. It was like dealing with a stray animal, trying to gain her trust.

Then, with what looked like a sudden impulse of courage, she took the parchment and held it firmly in her palm like something precious. She looked up with him, locking their gazes yet again: "Marissa. Call me Marissa."

Without leaving time for a response, she swept her shawl around her shoulders once more, and left through the crowd of patients to the exit just beyond, where the cold winter air awaited her.

Gaius watched her go, feeling some strange emotion tugging at his heart. It wasn't often in the wealthy city of Lath that he ever met someone with genuine need. And it almost made him want to break something, the way she had refused to look at him, tell him what happened, or even the way she had flinched at his touch like it had been a hot brand.

"Oy! You ready now?"

He started, his thoughts scattering. "Oh, yes. Next!"

**AN: Although the way he treated her wound may have seemed very unsanitary, remember that they still believed in the bodily humours and that sort of thing. **

**He may seem very out of character compared to the Gaius we all know and love, but I imagined him in his youth to be a very different man. **

**This fic may have much darker themes to come. I haven't quite decided yet. **

**Please tell me what you think. I'll appreciate whatever you say.**


End file.
